


a coffin for two

by peacefrog



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: “I’m not here to end your life,” Will said through clenched teeth. He pressed the stake harder into Hannibal’s sternum. “I want you to make me like you.”





	1. Chapter 1

Hannibal’s eyes shot open in the dark. He pressed his palms flat against the lid of his coffin and pushed it open. Rising from his velvet-lined box, his bare feet padded across the stone floor and carried him up the stairs and into the kitchen.

Hannibal smelled him before finding him there, his back turned at the counter. He turned to Hannibal, clutching a crudely sharpened wooden rod in one hand.

“I was so blind,” Will said. “But I see you now.”

Hannibal crossed to the fridge, his back turned to Will now as he tugged the door open. “Would you care for a drink?”

“That’s what gave it away, you know. At first. You stopped drinking the wine.”

Hannibal pulled out a bottle of beer and poured it into a chilled glass. He set it on the counter in front of Will. “I brewed it myself,” he said.

“And then you started seeing patients only at night. Stopped answering your phone during the day.” Will took a long swig from the beer and set it back on the counter, still gripping the thing intended for Hannibal’s heart. “It’s been three months now, maybe a little more.”

Hannibal stood close enough to Will now to feel his breath move upon the air, hear the ticking of his pulse beneath his skin. “Very good. I’ve been expecting such a visit from you since the night it happened.”

“How did it happen?”

“It would seem my senses failed me. I should have been more careful about what I was putting in my mouth.”

“Shouldn’t that be who?”

Hannibal smirked. “Your senses certainly haven’t failed you.”

“You were feeding them to us.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you the only one who turned?”

“I was the only one to consume the flesh of the afflicted.”

Will scoffed, turning the stake over in his hand, tightening his hold. “Afflicted,” he said, pressing the stake to Hannibal’s sternum, gently, just enough to pucker the fabric of his shirt. “Is that what you consider yourself?”

“I have become what I am now through no fault of my own.”

Will laughed from his belly, a rich sound that filled the kitchen. “I’d say consuming human flesh is a fault, Hannibal.”

Hannibal smiled. Had he a pulse any longer, perhaps it would be racing now. Not from any fear, but from the fire brimming in Will’s eyes. “Waiting for daylight to end my life would be much simpler. I cannot rise from my slumber until the sun goes down.”

“I’m not here to end your life,” Will said through clenched teeth. He pressed the stake harder into Hannibal’s sternum. “I want you to make me like you.”

“To do so, you would have to consume some part of me.”

“Open a vein. Your blood should be enough.”

Hannibal scented the air. Will’s anticipation was palpable. A heady taste on his tongue. “You come here with a stake to my heart so certain I won’t open one of yours.”

“If you were going to kill me, you would have done it months ago.”

“I’ve yet to feed tonight.”

“You have plenty of blood in the pantry.”

Hannibal bared his teeth. “Blood is best fresh. Warm. The scent of you alone is intoxicating,” he said, leaning into the press of Will’s stake “Imagine how you would taste.”

Will let the stake fall from his hand to the floor. From the block on the counter he pulled Hannibal’s chef’s knife, and without hesitation used it to delicately open his wrist. “Taste me, then,” he said. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

Hannibal gripped Will’s wrist, the blood flowing freely there, and brought it to his mouth. The taste of Will was just as he knew it would be, decadent, like honey dripping fresh from the comb into his belly.

Their eyes stayed locked together as Hannibal drank, Will’s face twisting into a snarl. It took all of Hannibal’s willpower to pull away, to wipe his mouth delicately with a tea towel, then use it to wrap Will’s wrist.

Had he a pulse any longer, certainly it would be racing.

“My turn,” Will said, panting, presenting Hannibal with the knife.

“How can you be certain this is what you want?”

“I’m tired, Hannibal,” Will said, his eyes wet and shining. “Please.”

Will’s hand was trembling as Hannibal took the knife. Blade met wrist and blood flowed, red with new life. Will brought it to his mouth.

Between his empty lungs, Hannibal was certain he felt his heart, beating once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Will lay on Hannibal’s sofa, burning hot with fever.

“When I was first afflicted, I thought myself sick with a common case of food poisoning,” Hannibal said. “Until the sun came up, that is.”

“Couldn’t you smell it?” Will asked through gritted teeth. “The… affliction.”

“The meat carried no unusual taste or smell. In hindsight, it should have given me pause that the man had been just as cold in life as in death.”

“He wasn’t alive. Even before you killed him.”

“No. He was not.”

“I’m dying,” Will huffed out, almost amused.

“Yes. You are. I’ll take you to rest in my coffin soon.”

Will laughed then, right through his burning pain. “You sleep in a coffin. Of course you do.”

“I have a certain fondness for the tradition, though any light-tight place will do.”

“Where will you rest?”

Hannibal smirked. “It’s quite a large coffin. Plenty of room for two. Unless you object to my company.”

Will squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his pulse stutter, now just a thready vibration in his neck. “I don’t object,” he slurred, comforted by the notion that he wouldn’t be alone. That Hannibal would be there with him, in the dark, as he slipped so carefully into death.

Too weak to open his eyes now, Will felt his body being lifted, carried, cradled in Hannibal’s arms. A door creaked open. The steps groaned as together they descended into Hannibal’s basement, and Will’s heart choked out one final beat.

––

Will woke to darkness, Hannibal’s shoulder pressed up against his own. He had the sensation that he was very cold, though it didn’t really register, like reading out the temperature of some far away place.

He pressed his fingers to his carotid and felt nothing. His heart sat empty beneath his breastbone. He was very hungry.

“Good evening,” Hannibal said. “It should be alright to go outside now.”

Hannibal pushed the coffin lid upward and helped Will to his feet. They made their way up to the kitchen, and Hannibal disappeared into the pantry, emerging minutes later with a decanter half-filled with blood.

“You must be starving.”

“I am,” Will said, following every movement of the blood as Hannibal filled a glass.

“Drink it slowly.”

Will smiled. “Afraid I’m going to give myself a vampire tummy ache?”

“Not at all. You should savor the first meal of your new life.”

Will’s hair stood on end as he lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled, overwhelmed with the scent of life. Honeyed-copper that dripped across his tongue at first taste. He wanted so badly to down it in one long swig, but settled instead for sipping it slowly as Hannibal eyed him from across the counter.

“You said it was better fresh and warm,” Will said, his glass now half empty, though his ravenous urges had not lessened.

“Yes.”

Will licked the blood from his lips. “I think I’d like to try that.”


	3. Chapter 3

Hannibal rifled through his rolodex, pausing to consider each card carefully.

“You keep a rolodex of every person who’s ever been discourteous to you in case you decide to murder them later?”

“Yes.”

“Of course you do.”

Hannibal plucked a card out and presented it to Will. Janet Kaufman was a realtor located in Pikesville. Will frowned, but the hunger in his belly implored him to nod his approval. 

“Have a bit more blood if you’d like. I won’t be a moment,” Hannibal said, disappearing into the basement.

Will eyed the blood, choosing instead to go out to his car, retrieving the duffel he’d stowed in the trunk. In days previous he’d found good homes for his dogs, packed up many of his belongings, put his house on the market. He carried the duffel into the house, changed his clothes in the washroom, and when he was through he found Hannibal in the parlor, dressed with a plastic jumpsuit over his clothes.

Will laughed. “Nice raincoat.”

“There’s one for you as well,” Hannibal said, motioning to the limp plastic suit draped across the sofa.

“Of course there is.”

Will took the jumpsuit in hand and pulled it on, its plastic crinkling loudly as he adjusted to the feel of it. “Dracula would be ashamed of us.”

Hannibal stepped into Will’s personal space, ran his fingers along the collar of Will’s suit. “The story of Dracula takes place in a time before forensic science. If we’re to stay in this town, we must take care to leave nothing behind.”

Will was warmed by Hannibal’s presence, in spite of there being no body heat passing between them. “Right,” he said, studying the crimson flecks in Hannibal’s dark eyes.

Hannibal smirked. “Shall we?”

Will followed Hannibal into the foyer, out into the night, into his Bentley. They drove the short distance to Pikesville in silence, parking one street over from the Kaufman household.

“How do we know she doesn’t have a husband, or a dog, or a gun?” Will asked as they traipsed through a neighbor’s yard.

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I were uncertain what we would be finding. And regular bullets cannot kill us now.”

Hannibal picked the lock on the backdoor of Janet Kaufman’s home, and as silently wearing plastic suits would allow the two of them slipped into the house and up the stairs to her room.

Hannibal moved so quickly Will had no time to react. One moment he was at Will’s side in the doorway, and the next he was on top of Janet in the bed, covering her mouth with his hand. She squealed helplessly, pinned down by Hannibal’s weight.

“Quiet now, Janet. There is no reason to be frightened.”

Janet went utterly still and silent in the bed.

“You hypnotized her,” Will said, awestruck as he approached the two of them.

“She’s somewhere far away in her mind. She will not suffer from this point forward,” Hannibal said, getting to his feet. “Unless you’d like her to.”

“No. No. Do we even have to…” Will’s whole body trembled with hunger. “Do we even have to kill her?”

Hannibal cradled Will’s face in one cold hand. “Her death is to be our life. How else are we to feed on her?”

“We can just take a little. Just enough. Will she even remember we were here?”

“I’m still learning the rules of this affliction myself, Will. But it is reasonable to assume the state she’s in presently would result in a loss of memory.”

“Then we don’t have to kill her.”

“Does the wolf spare the sheep?”

“We’re not wolves, Hannibal.”

Hannibal pulled his hand away, stepped back, studying Will’s face in the moonlight spilling through the window. “See if there are towels in the bathroom.”

Will retreated to the en suite, finding a stack of towels in the linen closet. He took them to Hannibal and together they piled them under the top half of Janet’s unmoving body. Hannibal clicked on a lamp and her eyes barely registered the change, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“How do we…” Will watched Hannibal as together they climbed on the bed, each taking one side.

“Use your fangs.”

“How do I…”

Will’s gums suddenly began to tingle, and there was a slick popping sound as two sharp fangs descended down over his canines.

“Oh,” Will said, touching the tips with his fingers.

Hannibal smiled, drawing his own fangs down, and together they lowered themselves down toward Janet’s carotids. Her pulse thumped warmly in her neck, and Will could smell the blood there as if it were already spilling. 

Sinking his fangs in was easy, letting the blood flow into him even easier still. Will savored the taste of her life spilling into him, moaning, reaching over to blindly grab at Hannibal’s shoulder as he drank his fill.

Pulling away as her pulse began to slow took every ounce of humanity Will could muster. He wiped his lips on the back of his plastic sleeve. Hannibal ceased his drinking only a moment after. 

Hannibal’s fangs dripped crimson down the front of his suit. Will growled, reaching over Janet’s limp body to grab Hannibal by the collar, pulling him forward into a searing kiss. Blood passed between them, sweetened by their tongues, the sharpness of their fangs scraping at each other’s lips.

“Will she be alright?” Will asked, breaking the kiss.

“She’ll live.”

“Good.”

They cleaned Janet’s neck and the front of their own plastic suits with a clean towel, then took the towels from beneath her on the bed.

“You’ll sleep until morning,” Hannibal purred, gazing into her eyes. “You’ll wake with no memory of our visit. You’ll not wonder where the marks on your neck came from.”

They exited the house as quickly and quietly as they’d arrived, taking the time to shove the soiled towels deep into a neighbor’s trash can. Back in the car, they sat in the dark without starting the engine.

“Why did you kiss me?” Hannibal asked, turning to Will.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since we met. You’re very kissable.”

Hannibal smiled, his bone-white face reflecting the light of the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be at least one more chapter to come very soon. In the meantime, come say hi on [tumblr](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com)!


	4. Chapter 4

They arrived home, quietly, gently, treading like ghosts up the steps and into the house. They didn’t speak as Will followed Hannibal upstairs and down the hall, into the bathroom. They removed their plastic suits and Hannibal drew a bath. Will stood in the doorway, watching him test the water with his hand.

“For you,” Hannibal said, turning to the door.

“Stay,” Will said, kicking off his shoes.

Hannibal stood watching as Will peeled off his clothes. His socks. His belt, the leather sliding smoothly through his fingers. Carefully, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, then turned to Hannibal.

“A little help?”

Hannibal smirked as he stepped into Will’s personal space. Though they were both well and truly breathless, as Hannibal took Will's shirt collar in his fingers, the air between them seemed to move. Their cold hearts pulsing to life. Hannibal undid the button at Will’s throat, moving downward with calculating precision.

“May I ask you a question?” Hannibal said, undoing the button at Will’s navel.

“Of course.”

“Why did you come to me, seeking out this affliction?”

“Couldn’t stand the thought of living inside my own head anymore. Thought becoming what you had become would make it easier.”

“And has it?”

Will allowed Hannibal to slip the shirt from his arms and down onto the floor. “A little. But not really. I still feel like myself. The craving for blood and lack of a pulse is new I guess.”

Hannibal popped the button open on Will’s pants. “We’re creatures of the night. Feeding on the living is what we do.”

“I get that,” Will said. Hannibal unzipped his fly. His heart would have been racing were it not frozen. “Doesn’t mean we have to kill them. Was easy enough tonight.”

“It won’t always be so easy.”

“We’ll make it easy.”

Hannibal tugged Will’s pants down to his ankles, and Will kicked them off onto the floor. His arousal beginning to stir, Will shoved his own boxers down in one quick motion. Left with nothing upon his skin now but Hannibal’s fiery gaze, Will smiled and submerged himself in the tub. The warmth of the water felt curious on his icy skin. The tips of a thousand blades cradling him gently.

Will closed his eyes and tipped his head back, listened to the sound of Hannibal’s footsteps rounding the tub, and the soft rustle of fabric as he sank down to the floor. And then his fingers were in Will’s hair, massaging his scalp, wetting it with a cupful of bathwater, shampooing it gently. By the time Hannibal had rinsed the shampoo from his hair, Will was fully hard beneath the water.

“How do we get erections if our blood doesn’t flow?” Will mumbled, only realizing he’d vocalized his thought when he heard Hannibal chuckling behind him.

“It would seem our very existence is magic.”

“Tell me what it’s like...” Will purred, eyes closed, Hannibal’s fingers back in his hair now. “What it’s like for creatures like us to… to…”

“To know pleasure?”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t yet had occasion myself.”

Will’s eyes shot open. “Not even on your own?”

“Not even on my own.”

Hannibal moved to the edge of the tub now, soaping up a sponge and washing Will’s chest above the water. Will could feel himself blushing, though that should have been impossible. Or was it? His blood was certainly moving in other locations.

“Do you, uh… only sleep in your coffin?”

“Why do you ask?” 

“Your bed…”

Hannibal smiled, running the sponge across Will’s clavicle. “Though my bed gets little use these days, it is still very much in working order.”

“Take me there,” Will said, drawing in Hannibal’s gaze. “To your bed. Right now.”

Hannibal dropped the sponge and let it sink beneath the water, and as quickly as he stood he was lifting Will from the tub. Water dripped from Will’s skin, soaking Hannibal’s suit, as they moved out into the hall.

Will sucked kisses into Hannibal’s neck as he was carried the short distance to the bedroom. Hannibal moaned, stealing a single kiss from Will’s lips before depositing him into the bed. Hannibal stripped quickly, his own arousal evident through the front of his slacks. Will reached out and groped at the hard curve of it, mouth watering for a taste.

And then Hannibal was naked, and crawling like a hungry beast into the bed, pinning Will to the mattress. He growled, sliding his slick hardness against Will’s hip. There was a gentle pop in Will’s ear, and the sharp tips of fangs all along his throat. He wrapped one strong hand around Will’s cock and began to stroke as he cut into Will’s carotid, savoring his blood.

Will’s head was spinning, the sensation of his blood spilling into Hannibal’s mouth far different than it had been when he was living. The way it tugged and moved every part of him almost more intense than the deft hand wrapped around his cock. 

Almost.

When Hannibal had his fill he pulled away with a slick pop, blood dripping from his lips and fangs down onto Will’s chest. Will ran a finger through it a brought it to his own lips. “Let me taste you,” he pleaded.

Hannibal took Will’s place on the bed, spread his thighs, allowed Will to settle down between them. Will stroked Hannibal’s leaking cock, tasted the pre-come on his fingers, nosed along the line of Hannibal’s inner thigh.

Will’s fangs popped out at the scent of Hannibal’s blood beneath the skin. His femoral artery, still and unmoving, but filled a with a different sort of life. A better life. A life they would share and know and devour together.

Will’s fangs sank into Hannibal’s flesh, drinking of him ravenously. Hannibal stroked his own cock as Will drank, moaning with a fervent hunger that sent Will’s own cock throbbing between his legs. And when Will took himself in hand he was coming in seconds, spilling his release down onto the bed. 

It was curious to know such a release with no pulse, chest unmoving and lungs devoid of air. Yet he could feel the life moving through him still. His flesh shuddered. His dead heart ached with love.

Will slipped his fangs from Hannibal’s artery and moved his mouth immediately to Hannibal’s cock, swallowing down the heady taste of him. Blood and pre-come. Hannibal growled, threaded his fingers in Will’s hair, and fucked up into his mouth. He came quickly down Will’s throat then, howling out his name, painting the sound of their song out into the dark.

They lay together in a sated, blood-smeared heap for minutes or hours after. They held hands and gently touched each other’s skin. And soon, too soon, Hannibal was stirring, rising from the bed, offering Will a robe as he dressed in his own.

“The sun will be rising soon,” he said.

Will took the robe, wrapped it around himself, followed Hannibal from the room and down into the basement. 

When Hannibal creaked open the lid to their coffin in the dark––their coffin made for two––it was the sound of going home. And together they lay down to death.

And together they rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com)!


End file.
